


Juno Steel and the Next Step Forward

by SarcasticSargassum



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Backstory, Canon Divergence - Juno Steel and What Lies Beyond, Canon-Typical Dark Matters Being Assholes, Canon-Typical Violence, Confessions, EDIT: finale came out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Fuck Dark Matters, Holding Hands, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Minor Buddy Aurinko/Vespa Ilkay, Other, POV Alternating, POV Juno Steel, POV Peter Nureyev, Peter Nureyev's Backstory, Post-Episode s03e21-22 Juno Steel and What Lies Beyond, Reunions, Separations, Speculation, do i care? no, i sure do hurt them a lot, oh well! :), so much holding hands, so this is now, this is what i think the finale is gonna be, to be specific, which comes first? thats for u to find out :), will i be wrong? probably., yknow for someone who cries over these charas getting hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-24 04:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30066957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarcasticSargassum/pseuds/SarcasticSargassum
Summary: The crew of the Carte Blanche have dealt with a lot in the past day or two, from a wedding to taking down the director of Dark Matters herself, but it seems like things are finally settling down. However, a few questions still remain: What happens to Sasha Wire now? Who was Peter Nureyev's first love? And perhaps most importantly- where do they go from here?Tonight's tale is... Juno Steel and the Next Step Forward.
Relationships: Buddy Aurinko & Peter Nureyev, Juno Steel & Sasha Wire, Peter Nureyev & Jet Sikuliaq, Peter Nureyev & Rita, Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel, Rita & Juno Steel, Vespa Ilkay & Peter Nureyev
Comments: 18
Kudos: 41





	Juno Steel and the Next Step Forward

**Author's Note:**

> boy oh BOY this one was a doozy to write. i know this is going to be proven wrong the day after i post it but like. sunk cost fallacy, this is the longest thing i've ever posted and i wrote it in under a week so fuck you i cannot die/lh
> 
> cw for: canon-typical violence/danger/threats, implied suicidal ideation in response to a death threat (similar to season 1 juno, for reference), dark matters being awful, mentions of death and terminal illness, mention of vomit (motion sickness), one instance of innuendo

When Sasha’s been locked in the brig and everyones’ hearts carefully make their way down from their throats, Buddy calls a family meeting.

They gather around the kitchen table, almost uncharacteristically silent. Juno’s heart buzzes with… _something_ , looking at his family all collected with him, but it still feels wrong to say anything about it without all of them here.

The flicker of pride in his chest turns sour when he thinks about Nureyev. Worst thing is, he can’t even tell what’s souring it- he’s resorted to flipping through the emotion wheel Buddy found for him a while back in his head while they wait, but nothing on it can even come close to the tangle of oversensitive nerves that pangs with every move. 

“Juno, darling, are you with us? The meeting’s about to start.” Buddy clears her throat loudly from the head of the table, staring him down.

“Uh- yeah. Sorry.” 

“Perfectly alright. Though, speaking of those with and not with us, I do believe we’re missing a member of our family.” Juno’s head snaps up just in time to see Buddy roll her eyes at something over his shoulder. “Ransom, dear, that was your cue.”

“Apologies, Captain Aurinko.” A familiar voice rings out behind him, a softness to the timbre and a looseness to its consonants that's only ever come out in the privacy of their rooms, when its owner holds him like he’s more precious than anything he ever could’ve stolen. Juno whips around in his seat so fast his eyes need a second to catch up to his brain.

Peter Nureyev is standing in the doorway, a nervous smile playing around his lips and that clunky Dark Matters visor pushed up on his head like a crown. "Hello, Juno. It's been a while."

“You…” Juno starts. Nureyev’s grin widens, one fang peeping out over his lower lip in giddy excitement.

“Yes, love. Me.”

Juno opens his mouth again, and then decides words can wait.

Nureyev still kisses the same, the kind of kiss that takes Juno’s breath away and never really gives it back. It’s the kind of kiss that means a thousand more things, because even when he physically can’t speak, he’s always got more to say. When Juno breaks away to breathe, his face is wet with tears, but it’s really the last thing on his mind at this point. Judging by the look on Nureyev’s face, a little slack-jawed and starry-eyed in the way Juno’s still getting used to, he couldn’t care less either. 

“Juno,” Nureyev exhales, and then fists his hands in the front of his dress and pulls him in for another kiss. Faintly, he can hear Vespa gagging and Rita making a noise just a little above the range of human hearing, but when Nureyev kisses him like this, like they’re both _finally_ coming home, everything else falls away for a second. 

“As heartwarming as this reunion is, I hate to remind us all that we currently have a captive in the brig, and that we do need to decide what to do with her,” Buddy pipes up after a minute, tapping the table with one pointed nail. Nureyev jolts a little, a sheepish look flushing his face. 

“Ah- yes. Right.” His hands come down from Juno’s face to grace his shoulders for a moment, before continuing to interlace Juno’s fingers in his. Juno squeezes three times, and Nureyev squeezes back, a silent exchange that travels from Juno’s palm to his painfully sappy heart as they take their seats once again.

A smile flits across Buddy’s lips when she looks at them, and her gaze lingers on where their hands are clasped together underneath the table for just a moment before it continues around to the rest of the family. “Now that we’re all reunited, we can start to debrief, I think. Juno, darling, you look like you’re absolutely burning to ask me something.”

“Yeah, actually. How the hell did you know he was still here?” Juno blurts. His head’s still spinning, but it’s finally starting to settle, and all the questions are bobbing to the top at once.

Buddy smirks at him, quirking an eyebrow good-naturedly. “Why, darling, for the detective that helped organize all this, you’re not very good at picking up on certain details. I said he was still with us, didn’t I?”

“You told me you had no idea where he was!”

“I told you I could count the number of times I’d known his location for certain on one finger. When did you think that one time was?”

Juno slumps back in his seat a little, a familiar itch of self-consciousness flushing across his cheeks. “‘s not my fault nobody in this goddamn family says what they mean.”

“As I recall, that worked in our favor quite handily,” Buddy replies, her hand arcing in an airy wave as she turns her attention back to the group. Nureyev leans over to brush a kiss against his burning cheek, and as quickly as it’d risen, his embarrassment melts away. “Now, going forward...” 

Juno listens closely to Buddy’s proposed options regarding what to do with Sasha, adding his own input whenever it’s necessary. 

In the meantime, he thinks back to how Sasha had looked at him, the same ink-black eyes he’d seen shot through with red for weeks after Annie’s death sizing him up like he was just another bullet-pointed dossier for her to analyze and throw away, and feels a little sick. Really, he doesn’t know what he expected- Dark Matters doesn’t exactly churn out beacons of morality, from what he’s seen- but it hurts all the same, knowing that when she’d looked at him, she’d only seen the same bitter, angry mess she’d left nursing a cheap whiskey in Oldtown two years ago.

“Alright then, darlings.” Buddy stifles a delicate yawn about an hour later, looking around the table. “I think we’ve hit a dead end for tonight, and I, for one, am positively exhausted. Rita, dear, are the cameras in the brig still working?”

“Yep! Fully operational, Captain A!” Rita holds up her comms, and Juno catches a glimpse of Sasha’s figure sitting against the wall before she puts them back down. “And so are all the back-up ones, and the back-up-back-up ones, and the alarms in case any of ‘em fail, and the back-up alarms-”

“Sounds perfect. Excellent work, Rita,” Buddy cuts in, helping Vespa to her feet and striding over to the doorway. “We’ll reconvene in the morning, but for now…” Her gaze flicks back to Vespa, the diplomatic upturn of her lips suddenly curving in an entirely new direction. “I believe my darling wife and I have a wedding bed to christen.”

“B-Bud!” Vespa’s face turns a shade of red Juno would probably laugh at, if she didn’t have her favorite throwing knife openly strapped to her thigh. As it is, he barely manages to hold in a snort when she glares daggers at him before turning back to her wife. “I, uh, believe I’d- ah, what you said.” 

“Marvelous.” Buddy’s smirk turns into a full grin, sparkling with mischief in the kitchen fluorescents before she turns and leads Vespa down the hall. Jet follows their example, patting Juno on the shoulder before leaving for his room. As the door closes behind him, Juno stands up, his knees protesting after the day he’s had. Nureyev rises too, briefly taking Juno’s other hand in his and opening his mouth to say something. 

“Juno-”

“Mista Steel!” Rita’s voice gives him half a second of warning before her body crashes into his midriff, winding him a little. When she pulls back, her eyes lock onto his, even as the lids droop a little more with sleepiness. “I know ya wanna head off with Mista Ransom, but I got somethin to say to ya first.”

“Oh! Uh, yeah, sure. What is it?” Rita’s eyes widen and her lips press together, and she jerks her head in Nureyev’s direction in what he assumes is her attempt at a subtle hint. Before he can reply, Nureyev chuckles, releasing his hand.

“I understand perfectly, Miss Rita. I’ll be going.”

Juno looks to him, a little confused. “Wait, but weren’t you gonna-”

“Nothing that can’t wait, I assure you,” Nureyev says smoothly. “Merely that I promised you an answer.” Something flashes in his eyes, then- so quick Juno nearly would’ve missed it, if it weren’t for the way Nureyev’s hands clasp behind his back to stop them from shaking. It looks like… fear, almost, and Juno’s brow furrows in concern. 

“Ransom, are you-”

“I’m alright, love.” Nureyev’s face stays in that same frozen smile for another moment before softening into something Juno recognizes as genuine. “I’ll be in my room when you’re done.”

“Got it.” Juno waves goodbye as Nureyev slips from the room, his focus lingering on the empty doorframe for a second longer before he turns back to Rita. “So, uh, what did you wanna talk to me about, Rit- oof!”

Her arms lock around his waist again, and this time he takes the hint, hugging her back and wincing a little when the corner of her cat-eye glasses digs into his ribcage. She’s muttering something, but between the fact that her face is firmly embedded in the fabric of his dress and his piss-poor auditory processing, he can’t actually make any of it out until she pulls away to breathe.

“-and I know Miss W weren’t really all that nice to you but I want ya to know, Mista Steel, I-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. You’re gonna have to start over, Rita.” Juno shakes his head, pointing at his ears. “I, uh, didn’t get all that.”

“Oh. Right.” Rita looks cowed for a moment. She looks down at her shoes, then back up at Juno, and takes his hand in hers. “It’s just… I know the kinda way Miss W wanted ya to act. I read the manuals one of the times I hacked in, yaknow? She wanted you all scared and angry and mean just like you used to be, and maybe _she_ believed it, but…” She puts her other hand over top of his, her chubby fingers dwarfed by the relative expanse of scarred tissue underneath. “I want you to know, boss, that I wasn’t ever scared for you. Not even for one second, ‘cause I know the lady you’ve become, and I’m so proud of him.” 

Juno feels something swell in his chest and behind his eyes, and hell, he’s already cried once tonight. Rita’s seen way worse anyways. “I… thanks, Rita,” he chokes out, wiping his eye and pulling her into another hug.

“You’re welcome, Mista Steel.” Rita pats his hand one more time before letting go, stepping back and yawning. “Now go be sappy with your boyfriend or whatever it is you kids get up to. I’m goin’ to bed.”

“ _Kids_ \- how old _are_ you, anyways?” Juno calls out as she snatches her comms off the table and moves towards the door, but she only walks faster.

“Ain’t polite ta ask! G’night, boss, I love you!”

“...love you too, Rita.” 

* * *

Juno’s voice fades into nothingness as Nureyev walks away, already retreating into his own mind by the time he’s rounded the corner. Without the steady presence of Juno and the others, each footstep rings a little farther away in his ears, and it is all he can do not to slump against a wall and let his emotions overtake him- even then, he can feel his hands beginning to shake.

He slips through the door to his room and balks at the clutter that lies in wait on the other side. Clothes, books, papers, and a thousand more pieces of other peoples’ lives have long since crept from a semblance of organization to strew themselves across every horizontal surface. Juno’s said he doesn’t mind, of course, but the last time he was in here was months ago, and the mess has increased almost exponentially since then.

Really, though, if he’s being honest with himself, he just needs something to _do_ until Juno gets here. The Dark Matters uniform comes off quickly and goes over the back of a chair, and he moves on to the bed. The familiar motions of stacking like with like and shoving them somewhere a little less physically hazardous are barely enough to keep his mind above the racing current of his thoughts, but they do well enough- or, at least, they do until he hears a familiar, heavy gait trace its way to his door.

He scrambles away from his current efforts, kicking a last pile of shirts to the side so he can perch on the edge of his bed just as two knocks echo through the room. “Yes, yes, come in.” 

Juno enters, padding across the floor to settle next to Nureyev on the bed. A quick glance down at his pocket tells Nureyev that he’s brought the notebook, and he feels his stomach churn with anxiety once again. He forces his hand not to tremble when he places it tentatively between them, and thank goodness, Juno gets the hint, slipping his hand into Nureyev’s and connecting them again. His presence at once soothes Nureyev’s worries and drives them into a whirling frenzy, smiling across at him with that look in his eyes that is so soft and _open,_ and- he reaches for a word to describe the thing that glows within his chest whenever Juno’s there, but as with so many instances where Juno Steel is involved, his vocabulary falls short.

“Hey, honey? You in there?”

Nureyev jolts at the sound of Juno’s voice bringing him back to himself, nodding quietly and adjusting his posture once more. “Ah- yes. Apologies, Juno.”

“No need to apologize, it’s okay.” 

The silence stretches on between them. Nureyev tries to work up the courage to break it, but his tongue lays still and limp in his mouth. His fingers tighten around Juno’s, knuckles beginning to pale where they’re clenched almost hard enough to hurt.

“Nureyev, you don’t have to- I don’t need an answer from you now,” Juno reassures him, placing his other hand overtop theirs to gently loosen Nureyev’s clawlike grip. “Take your time, alright?”

 _Taking his time._ Isn’t that a novel idea, Peter Nureyev _taking time_ like he doesn’t fear every moment that passes him by, like the ticks of the clock that sits on his bedside table don’t sound like the steady beat of a march to his doom. “I… I’ve taken enough time already, love.” He swallows, resigning that fear to be confronted another day. Right now, he’s meant to be divulging his past, not shrinking from his future. “The truth is I’ve wanted to tell you since… well, nearly since the day we reunited. This is the closest I’ve ever come, and I’m afraid I may not be able to work up the courage again.” He laughs, breathless and shaky, and leans into Juno’s shoulder. “This _is_ my time, Juno. If it’s not yours, I understand, but… don’t let my anxieties fool you into thinking I’m not ready.”

“Alright.” Juno tilts his head up to catch Nureyev’s lips in a kiss- honestly, it’s barely a kiss so much as a romantically charged bumping of noses, what with the angle, but Nureyev savors it anyways. “I’m listening.”

Nureyev nods. In his mind, he begins to wander, bypassing endless rows of worries and embarrassments until he finds himself face-to-face with the memories he needs. With Juno firm and steady at his side, he takes a deep breath and begins.

“His name was Benvolio.” The notebook in Juno’s pocket jumps and buzzes, and the text scrawling across the next few pages is visible for mere a second before Nureyev’s hand covers it. Juno looks up at him, curiosity tipping over into confusion in the crinkle of his brow.

“Nureyev?”

“I-” Nureyev’s gaze drops, looking down at where his fingers are half-obscuring the paragraphs appearing under them. “I had originally hoped to tell you his name, and then let you read it on your own, but… I’d like to tell you the whole story myself. If that’s alright.” 

Juno bobs his head, slowly releasing the notebook so Nureyev can close it and put it behind him. “Yeah, it’s- I mean, sure, if that would be easier for you.”

Nureyev chuckles weakly. “Oh, no, don’t mistake me, Juno, it will be infinitely harder. But…” He breaks off. The memories are beginning to come clearer now, as full and bright as they’d been so many years ago, and he knows that there is no way mere words on a page could ever do him justice. “It’s what he deserves. I… I may be the only one who remembers him, now. The least I can do is tell his story right.”

Juno scoots closer, wrapping his other arm around Nureyev’s waist to pull him close. Nureyev melts into it immediately. Even with all this time to prepare, he’s still not ready- but he starts to speak anyway. 

“It was two or three years after I’d left… began my solo career. Lio and I met on a mission, members of two different factions of Outer Rim rebels that had failed to communicate before they sent operatives to rob a pharmacorp outpost blind. He was hiding in the vents whereas I had snuck in with a forged ID, we both mistook the other for a security measure, and in a flash we were both on the ground with knives at each others’ throats.” Nureyev chuckles, mind already drifting back to the past. “As messy a first meeting as these things can go, I suppose.”

“Looks like you made a habit of it, though,” Juno jokes beside him, and Nureyev cracks a smile.

“Yes, I suppose I did.” His hand tightens around Juno’s again- not tight enough to hurt, not this time, but enough to tether himself back to the present if need be. “Somehow, we figured out we were there with the same goal, and pulled off the heist beautifully. He asked for my name afterwards, as we were waiting for our superiors to contact us, and I gave him an alias, as I always did. He saw straight through me.” Nureyev chuckles. To that point, that was the fastest he had ever been found out, and when the adrenaline had worn off, something about that was… terrifying? Exhilarating? Emotions have never quite translated to memory in his mind, and so the flicker of sensation in his chest as he pulls that recollection out is a weak copy of a copy of a copy- but even then, it still threatens to overwhelm him. 

“What was he like?” Juno asks, and Nureyev feels a smile creep into his voice.

“Clever. Quick, determined, kind to those who needed it and harsh to those that wouldn’t extend him the same courtesy. Brilliantly resourceful, too- he could wiggle his way out of any predicament if he was allowed a moment to think.” Nureyev’s voice catches in the back of his throat. “But even moreso than that, he was brave. He faced the same fears we all did, shaking with it behind closed doors, but he was always the first to stand firm in the face of a new threat.” He sighs, twisting a little further into Juno’s embrace. “I should have worried about that, I think. Looking back, it’s a miracle he survived some of the things he did. But back then, the world seemed so dark, and he was… he was beautiful.” 

In the afterimage of his words, more echoes of the past rise to meet him- a laugh bubbling over the sounds of a firefight, dim fluorescent lighting creating a halo in messy waves, a jagged frontier, pockmarked and ripped through by war, lit up for a second by the flash of a smile when a blaster shot rang out. As his body slowly begins to relax, Nureyev _remembers_.

“Benvolio, my Lio, he… he was a good man.” He makes sure to pronounce the name with all the reverence of a prayer, savoring each syllable for the briefest moment before releasing it into the space between them. The world hasn’t heard it in years, and he can’t help the ache in his chest to raise it to the same prominence it always should have held. “He wanted the world to be better than it was, and he would do anything to make it so. And when I was with him...” Nureyev sniffles into Juno’s shoulder, and his voice breaks with a watery laugh. “When I was with him, stars help me, I wanted that too.”

“I wasn’t as brave as him back then, I don’t think I’ve ever been-” Juno opens his mouth to object, but Nureyev barrels onwards- “-when I gave him my name, I couldn’t even bear to say it out loud; I wrote it on a piece of paper I snuck into his pocket and ran with my tail between my legs. That night, he found me sitting on the roof, connecting the stars over and over again as if I could make a constellation of my escape route.” That night is fragile in his memory, minutes or hours of waiting blurred by anxiety- but he handles it as delicately as he can, picking out every detail he can find and bringing it to clarity as if he’s restoring an old Earth painting. “He sat next to me and told me that he’d had a feeling- that he was glad I’d proven him right. And that he was honored, to be given the responsibility of caring for something so important.”

He feels Juno wince at his side, most likely swallowing down an apology for the way he’d treated Nureyev’s name at first. Nureyev opens his mouth, ready to reassure Juno that the circumstances of their meeting are just as treasured in his heart, but Juno breaks the silence before he can. “So… what happened to him?”

This is the part that hurts, he knows, but he must tell it anyway. "One mark we took on had been experimenting with a new kind of bioweapon. I avoided it. Lio… didn’t.” Nureyev’s hand tightens around Juno’s again. "I heard that they’d developed a cure- losing too many of the people working on it, at least from what I could gather. Foolish, perhaps, but I believed... maybe, just maybe, I could save him- sneak back to the scene of the crime, steal a sample for him, and we could have the future we’d always wanted.” Nureyev grits his teeth. “Instead… in my desperation, I got reckless, and when all was said and done, I woke up in a cell somewhere with my sixteen-year-old self staring back at me.” 

The tension that had leaked from his frame when he’d talked about Lio comes back all at once, as the narrative of his memories shifts to the fear and pain that has haunted him ever since. If recalling Benvolio was difficult, this part will be near impossible- but he clenches his jaw and does it anyway. Juno deserves to know.

“They knew my name, Juno. They knew _me_ .” He’d been exhausted, terrified, grieving the lover he would surely lose, and in that state he’d taken the offer they gave him without a second thought. “It was the worst decision I have ever made, and I saw it as a _mercy_ . They said it would be so simple- just pay them a sum of money, and they would give me the cure. They’d even provide the first dose for free, as a loan of sorts.” It had seemed so easy at the time- an outstretched hand that promised to pull him from his lowest point. There isn’t a single day he doesn’t wish he could go back and stop his younger self, grab him by the shoulders and scream, _didn’t you learn? Nothing has ever been this easy for you, Peter Nureyev. Don’t expect the universe to be kind._

“So your debt-” He can almost hear the gears working underneath Juno’s words as he processes. “But wasn’t that, I dunno, twenty years ago? Shouldn’t you have paid it off by now?”

“Interest is a tricky thing, detective,” Nureyev mutters. “The rates they set were higher… _are_ higher than anything I could hope to pay.”

“And… Lio? what happened to him?”

“The cure didn’t work.” Nureyev says it so simply, as if he’s not cracking in two and silently begging Juno to hold him together. This piece of his past, when it rises to meet him, is cruelly, perfectly clear.

He remembers the exact shade of sickly grey that had shot through Lio’s skin like corrupted arteries in those last few months, the cracking, shattering wheeze of his voice, the way his eyes had stayed bright right up until the moment when… they didn’t, anymore. He remembers the long nights spent in bedside vigil, the mounting dread every time a new cure arrived and Lio was _still_ sick the next morning, remembers the bitter, ugly shadow of grief and guilt that had clawed its way into the deepest part of him and stayed, panging again and again with every incessant ring of a burner comms. “I’m not sure why I ever expected them to follow through. It was foolish, I know, but-”

“You were trying to save his life,” Juno says. He pulls Nureyev flush to his chest, one hand rubbing circles into his shaking shoulders. “You loved him, and you wanted him to live. You wanted to do the right thing.”

“I promised myself I would only steal from those that deserved it, back when he was alive,” Nureyev shudders out. “Even as he sickened every day, I… I swore to him I would keep my ideals- _our_ ideals- firm. After he died, with the weight of M- of _his_ death already weighing on my shoulders…” He draws further in on himself at the memory, flinching from the judgement of a man twenty years dead. “It took me a very long time to convince myself having a heart would not kill me.”

“Nureyev…” Juno murmurs into his hair, and suddenly he can’t take it anymore, can’t take Juno holding him like this when he still has more to reveal. He sits up in a rush, moving away until the space between them is big enough that he feels like he can breathe again. Juno’s expression twists in confusion and hurt, and he feels another stab of guilt in his chest. “Nureyev, what the hell was that for?”

“I- I haven’t told you everything, Juno.”

“What, you’re allergic to hugs or something?”

“I joined this crew to rob them,” Nureyev blurts. The words taste like acid in his mouth and he wishes immediately that he could take them back, snatch them from the air and polish them until they’re something shinier and prettier and farther from the truth; instead, they lie ugly and undeniable in the space between them, and Nureyev wishes he could disappear.

“...what?”

“My debtors wanted the Map, Key, Blade, and Book. I had no idea they were going to be used to procure the Curemother, I swear.” Nureyev shuts his eyes and looks away- perhaps it makes him a coward, but he doesn’t want to see the look on Juno’s face when he realizes he’s fallen in love with a traitor. “After I found out- well, the date they had asked for them was after we were set to steal the Curemother Prime, so I thought…”

“You thought you’d help us get the Curemother and then disappear.” Juno’s voice is blank, and Nureyev feels his heart stop.

“At first, yes, but- I’ve realized that even without the Curemother to safeguard, these items are extremely powerful. They can’t fall into the hands of people like _them_.” He resists the urge to pull his legs up to his chest and curl in on himself like a child. “I’ve been lying to them since. I don’t know how long I have before they call me on it, but I’ll figure out another way, I promise. I’ll do it alone, of course, I understand that you must want nothing to do with me by now-”

“Whoa, whoa, Nureyev, slow down a second.” A warm, callused hand closes around his, and he tentatively opens one eye to see Juno looking back at him- not with anger or hatred on his face, but worry. “Why wouldn’t I want to be with you?”

“Were you not listening?!” Nureyev sputters, aghast. “I was going to steal from you!”

“Yeah, and then you changed your mind.” Juno shrugs, like it’s that easy. 

“But-”

“No buts.” Juno catches his chin in forefinger and thumb, and Nureyev goes silent. “Nureyev, just answer me this. Do you, you _right now_ , still plan on stealing from us?”

“...no.”

“Do you still plan on leaving?”

“Of course not! Juno, I swear to you, I-”

“Then I don’t get why I’d need to be worried.” Juno leans in closer, his warmth wrapping around Nureyev and pulling him in before their skin even touches. “You’re here with me, and that’s good enough. That’s _always_ good enough.”

“I-” Nureyev is determined not to cry again, but it’s so hard when Juno looks at him like that, and he still feels so very weak. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Juno holds his arms out and Nureyev falls into them immediately, snuggling as close as possible in his exhausted state. “In the morning, if you want to, we can go to Buddy and figure out a plan. She’s smart, she’ll know what to do. Hell, she’s probably done it already.”

“That wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest.” Nureyev laughs, faintly registering Juno carefully lowering them to the pile of pillows in the corner of the bed. He’s been through so much today, and every part of him is depleted of energy from the emotional whirlwind he’s just put himself through, but- “Love…”

“Mm?”

“I think I should go do my skincare routine, I-”

“Nah.” Juno slings an arm around Nureyev, gently herding him back down to a horizontal position. “It can wait.”

Nureyev sighs dramatically, slumping back into Juno’s chest with a satisfied noise.. “Well, if it’s for you, my love, I suppose I can stay.”

* * *

Juno wakes up to a note on the pillow next to him, the familiar scent of faraway spices permeating the air. As he inhales again, though, about a thousand other scents mix with it, and his head spins when his eye finally adjusts.

He’s in Nureyev’s room. _Right._ Still in the dress he wore to Buddy’s wedding, too, which he _really_ needs to get dry-cleaned at this point. Wrinkling his nose a little, he picks his way across the floor and back to his room, changes, showers, and then heads for the brig.

He hears Sasha before he sees her. A rhythmic _thunk, thunk, thunk_ echoes down the hall leading to the brig and as soon as he opens the door, he sees the source- Sasha, propped up against the left wall with her legs crossed in front of her, eyes shut and head falling back over and over again. She only stops when the door closes behind him.

“Juno.”

“Sasha.”

“So I take it they’ve decided to start off easy with the torture? Ilkay seemed all too happy to have me dead. Did Aurinko manage to change her mind, or should I start writing a will for you to throw out the airlock?” As harsh as the words coming out of her mouth are, her voice is cool and level, like she’s discussing the weather on Venus instead of what her death will look like. She pushes herself to her feet, crossing the room to him with a practiced steadiness. “Go on, then.”

“What? Sasha, I- that’s not what I’m here for. Nobody else even knows I’m here right now.” He sees the disbelief in her eyes as soon as the words leave his mouth. “Look, that’s the truth, okay? I know you don’t believe me, but I just want to talk.”

“So talk.”

“You know what? I will.” He crosses his arms and stands up a little straighter. They’re exactly the same height- have been since they were fourteen- but her Dark Matters uniform shoes raise her about an inch taller, and even as their captive, it feels like she’s looking down on him. “Sasha, I don’t know what you want from us. I mean, I _literally_ don’t know what you want from us. You’ve been so cagey about this whole Class X radical thing that I’m honestly starting to think you just wanted a reason to push us around.” She stays quiet, and it only serves to amp him up more. “You- Sasha, what the hell happened to you?”

“The same thing that happened to you, Juno.” Sasha pauses, and something in her expression shifts. “Or… that’s what I thought, at least.” 

“But I’m different than I was.” 

“Yes. You are.” There’s a tone to her voice he can’t name, somewhere between resignation and envy. She turns away, moving back to her spot against the wall. “Dark Matters likely won’t come back for me, you know.”

“What?”

She shrugs. “They won’t. No matter how important you are to Dark Matters, they have your replacement trained before you even get the job. I knew that when I came here.”

“But you’re-” 

“The Director, yes. But there is an entire hierarchy of trained agents waiting with bated breath to take my place. You saw them two years ago, Juno. They’d be more than happy to abandon me with the enemy.”

“That’s…” Juno hesitates, his hand half-outstretched to Sasha on instinct before he even realizes it. He knows what feeling disposable is like. He knows how to rationalize it the same way Sasha is, cold and unfeeling, just a matter of numbers and better people than him who can climb on top of his body to reach something greater. But Sasha doesn’t have a robot in her head, as far as he knows. This is just how she thinks, plain and simple. “Sasha, I’m so sorry.”

“This is just how it goes. I’m telling you because if Captain Aurinko wants to use me as ransom against Dark Matters, it won’t work, and I’d rather save her that embarrassment.” 

“Since when have you cared about Buddy?”

Sasha chuckles, her face breaking into something resembling a smile for the first time since she’s come aboard this ship. “Call it a wedding gift. Or call it me not wanting my former colleagues to see the indignity of my capture. Whatever you’d like to believe.”

Juno huffs, a slight smile creeping onto his face before he can help himself. “Can I sit?”

“By all means.” 

“Thanks.” Sasha scoots sideways so he can prop himself against the wall next to her, drawing one leg up to his chest and letting the other lie at an angle on the floor. “So… if you can’t go back to Dark Matters, what do you want to do?”

“I didn’t know I had a choice in the matter.”

“I mean…” He pauses, thinking it over. “Honestly? I don’t know if you do, right now. But the people on this ship are better than you think they are.”

“They’re criminals, Juno.”

“Yeah, and you guys have a shorthand for ‘paid leave after one of your colleagues tries to murder you’, so don’t get on all high and mighty on me, Wire.” Juno rolls his eyes, and Sasha laughs.

“Fair enough.” Her voice sombers, and her head drops to stare down at her lap. “I… I don’t know, either. Yesterday, I would’ve said I wanted to go back to Dark Matters. But now…” She sighs. “I’m not so sure.”

“What changed?”

“You. You proved me wrong,” Sasha says, turning back to him. “Juno, in the thirty-eight years I’ve known you, you’ve been one of the most messed-up people I’ve ever met.”

“Gee, thanks-”

“ _But_ ,” Sasha continues, holding a hand up to cut him off, “You’re different now. I saw the way you looked at those people, Juno- you have a family here. And… I can’t write that off the way I used to.” Her gaze flicks to the porthole at the back end of the room and the endless starry sky behind it, and for a second she looks the same way she used to- just a kid who hadn’t had anything too bad happen to her yet, perched on a rickety Oldtown fire escape and staring up past the dome to a better life she dreamed of having someday. “So… who knows? XZ2B-21-Z is supposed to be nice this time of century. I’ve heard it has a great view of Pluto.”

“A fresh start?”

“Maybe.” Sasha shrugs. “It seems like I’ll have time to think it over, at least.”

“Yeah, I guess.” 

Sasha seems… changed, the more they talk. Not that much- even he’s not hopeful enough to think that decades of Dark Matters indoctrination would fade overnight- but something about her is more human, more _real_ . Even the sharp, sleek angles of her uniform look tamer now, and it feels like he’s sitting next to _Sasha_ again, not Agent Wire or Subdirector Wire or Director Wire but _Sasha Wire ._ As she cracks a joke about Oldtown food and they laugh together, he realizes how much he’s missed it.

Eventually, the conversation begins to wind down, more and more space stretching on between each exchange until the air is mostly silent. Sasha yawns, her posture drooping away from the wall, and it occurs to Juno that she probably hasn’t slept since she stepped onboard.

“Sasha, you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” She sits up, blinking twice, but it’s clear she’s getting tired. 

“You can go to bed, you know. I’ll let the others know not to come in.”

“Alright.” She rises to her feet and pulls him up after, not commenting when his joints pop weakly. “Goodbye, Juno.”

“Bye, Sasha. Sleep tight.”

When the door closes behind him, a flicker of satisfaction spreads through him, and he can’t help the smile that crosses his face. 

Family’s never been easy for either of them. She’d lost Annie, he’d lost Benten and his mother, and both of them had spent years since thinking they’d never let anyone get that close again. And then… Juno did. Rita, and Nureyev, and Buddy and Jet and even Vespa when she’s not threatening him with a knife (and sometimes even when she is, although she’ll never admit it) care about him. They’d found their way into his life one way or another, and he’s grown enough to realize, finally, that that’s a good thing. He rounds the corner to the kitchen, humming some theme from one of Rita’s streams, still feeling a little lighter with that bit of hope to push him along. 

The last thought he has before the ship’s alarms go off and his heart sinks through the floor is that hell, if he could change, then maybe Sasha can too.

* * *

“What the _hell_ did you do, you piece of shit?” Vespa’s voice rings from the open door of the brig.

“I didn’t do anything, Ilkay. It looks like you’re jumping to conclusions. Maybe you should talk to that missing member of your ship inst-”

“We have, actually.” Buddy’s voice is as placid as ever, but he’s spent long enough studying her mannerisms that he knows she’s barely holding in an untold amount of rage. “He has nothing to do with this, and all three of us know it. Now _talk._ ”

Wire’s next words are drowned out by the sound of heavy footsteps, and Nureyev looks back to see Juno coming down the hall towards him. 

“Were you waiting for me?”

“I… now that you say it, yes.”

“Then let’s get in there.” Juno slips his hand into Nureyev’s as he brushes past, and the two of them enter the brig.

The sight that greets them is about what Nureyev had expected, although it doesn’t make the betrayal on Juno’s face any easier to see- Sasha, her face level and relaxed even as Jet restrains her from behind, Rita in the corner, her eyes wide as she fusses over a screen in her lap, and Buddy and Vespa, side by side in the center of the room, staring Sasha down with a hardened fury that sends chills down his spine. Vespa’s got a blaster pointed straight at Sasha’s head, and Juno’s eyes lock onto it.

“Vespa, put that down!” His hand slips from Nureyev’s to snatch it out of her grip, but she jerks away.

“Fuck no, Steel! She’s refusing to talk-”

“Because none of you would _believe me_ if I did.” Sasha speaks up over Vespa’s indignation. “Now _Juno_ , on the other hand, might.” 

Juno hesitates. “You don’t know that, Sasha.”

“Yes, I do.” Sasha leans forward, and when she smiles, it almost seems sincere. “Faith is a good trait to have, Juno. I’m glad it didn’t leave you.”

“Don’t you _dare,_ ” Juno grits out. 

Sasha pauses, and Nureyev can almost see the numbers shifting in her head as she gauges Juno’s reaction. Whatever solution she comes to doesn’t seem to matter, because her expression slides back to indifference. “Alright. I won’t, then. Dark Matters will capture you regardless of what particulars I provide, which I will warn you, won’t be much.”

“Torture doesn’t work on you suits, huh?” Vespa snarls, and then the glowing tip of her blaster snaps up to rest against Sasha’s forehead. “ _Then let’s skip the formalities._ ” 

“What the hell, Vespa!” Juno objects, grabbing her wrist. Vespa doesn’t move, and neither does Sasha. “You can’t just kill her!”

“I won’t if she cooperates! You heard the woman, Steel, if we want anything out of her-”

“What the hell can she tell us that we don’t already know? How hard they’re gonna shoot us?”

“Don’t get smart with me, you-” Vespa growls, shoving the barrel until Sasha’s head tilts backwards. “Talk or I shoot you, Wire.”

“Then shoot me.” Sasha’s voice is still calm, and Nureyev realizes as she speaks that she hasn’t looked at the blaster once. “I don’t have any information you’d find useful, and Dark Matters has likely already filled my position. Your threats have no leverage.”

Juno’s face falls when the words hit him, stepping back like he’s been knocked off his footing. “Sasha… you don’t mean that.”

“You sound surprised, Juno.”

“I’m not about to sit back and watch you throw your life away!”

“Like _I_ had to watch _you_?”

“I changed!” Juno yells, the words striking out like thunder. The quiet that rings in their wake is deafening. “...I changed, goddamnit, and I’m not watching you walk down the same path I did. I know where it leads now, and it’s not a place anyone should be.”

“Then worry about your own path, Juno, and let me choose where mine ends.”

Juno falls silent. For a moment, nobody dares to move- like the tension between them is a real, tangible thing, and any tiny disruption could shatter it and send them spiraling into the void. Then Rita coughs into her fist and says very quietly:

“Captain A, Dark Matters’ll be here soon.”

“Thank you, Rita.” Buddy nods. She’s been quiet through the whole affair, and now, her eyes flick to Juno before anyone else.

He looks back at her, and then back to Sasha. The look in his eyes is indecipherable when he takes the blaster from Vespa’s hand, keeping it pointed in the same spot. “Sasha. Do you have a heart condition?”

She stares up at him, impassive as ever. “You know I don’t.”

“Yeah.” Juno’s jaw sets, and his hands stay steady when he clicks the setting on the blaster to the left. “But you deserved a warning.” 

Sasha Wire falls unconscious to the floor, not making a sound. Her clothes aren’t burnt where the blast landed, and yet Juno’s gaze stays fixed over her heart until his arms fall the rest of the way and he staggers backwards into Nureyev’s chest. He mumbles something under his breath as they make their way to the bridge, and over the clamor of footsteps it takes a moment for Nureyev to make it out- 

“Goddamnit. I thought she’d- Goddamnit.”

“It’s alright, dear.”

“No, it’s not.” Juno slips his hand into Nureyev’s, squeezing it once. “But we’ll make it through.”

Nureyev squeezes back. “I hope so too, love.”

* * *

The situation, from what he can understand of Buddy’s endless maps and projections, is grim- weapons of a caliber he’s only heard whispered about and ships that could outstrip the Carte Blanche in a heartbeat.

In their case, a heartbeat is seventeen minutes. That’s how much time they get until Dark Matters reaches the coordinates of the distress signal Director Wire had sent out. An ingenious device, from what he understood of Rita’s explanation on the way over- a subdermal implant at the base of the skull, meant to activate and broadcast her location if she experienced a certain amount of blunt force. While impressive, though, it does very little to soothe the sickening gnaw of anxiety in his gut.

“Could we use the Blade to escape them?” Nureyev asks, trying desperately not to let panic take over. The red dots on Buddy’s screen that move closer to them at far too great a speed pick at the edges of him, digging their nails in and pulling him away from himself like a child ripping off a scab. “I’m sure it has some kind of function that could make us go faster, couldn’t it?”

“Even doubling the power of the Carte Blanche’s engines, we would not be able to outrun them,” Jet states, staring down at his own sets of schematics for something Nureyev can’t even begin to identify. “There is a possibility that we could rig up a weapon of sorts.” 

“Nothing we can make in seventeen minutes is gonna outdo Dark Matters weaponry, Siquliak,” Vespa grunts. “We’re screwed.”

“Now, Vespa darling, we can’t give up just yet.” Buddy peers at her materials like if she strains her eyes hard enough, an escape route will manifest from the spots in her vision. “We could negotiate, perhaps- we do have their director captive, after all.”

“They don’t give a damn about Sasha, but they’re not leaving until they get the Curemother and whatever the other radical is.” Juno’s head hits the table with a low groan. “There’s nothing we can give them to make them back off, other than the two things they literally _cannot_ have.” 

“Captain A, what’s that clump up in the corner there?” Rita leans across Jet’s lap to poke at something on Buddy’s screen. 

“It’s Soteria, darling. Another Outer Rim planet.”

“And all that stuff around it?”

“Space junk. A lot of it,” Vespa interjects, looking up. “They got hit _hard_ in the last days of the war, and after… well, let’s just say getting sieged in doesn’t exactly leave you with the means to get all that stuff outta your orbit.”

Something clicks in Nureyev’s brain and he shoots up so fast his head spins, slamming his hands down on the table. “I have an idea. Buddy, could we get to Soteria before Dark Matters catches up?”

“Just barely.” Buddy turns to the console, already inputting the coordinates. “What do you plan to do when we get there?”

“Bud-”

“We cannot afford to distrust him right now, Vespa, nor can we afford to distrust any other member of our family.” That one striking eye burns into him, pinning him to the spot. “So, Ransom. What is your plan?”

It’s a bit complex, but Buddy says she’s managed ones far more convoluted before, and he believes her. They’ll steer the Carte Blanche into the layer of space junk around Soteria and hide from the largest of the Dark Matters ships in the clutter, entrusting Jet with the job of keeping the ship away from possible collisions. Then, the part he dreads to ask-

“But if we just do that, they’ll catch up eventually. However, we know one thing they want- the Curemother. Someone will have to exit the ship and take a separate path through the debris field, convincing Dark Matters they have the Curemother with them.” He takes a deep breath, steeling himself. “I propose that someone be me.”

“You would need to take the Ruby,” Jet says slowly. Nureyev nods. 

“Yes.”

Jet and Buddy make eye contact. Nureyev waits, hands twisting nervously behind his back- it all comes down to this, on whether or not they are willing to trust him. Jet’s the only one that can get them through the debris safely, and everyone at this table knows it. The only question is whether they trust him to keep up his end of the bargain.

The silent conversation stretches on until it doesn’t, ending with a slight nod from Buddy, an eyebrow raise from Jet, a gesture of Buddy’s chin as if to say _It’s your call_ , and Jet turns back to him. “Alright.”

“Really?”

“Buddy believes you will do the right thing, and I believe Buddy.” 

“You stayed,” Buddy adds when his eyes flick to her, his heart suddenly beginning to race. “You could have taken the Ruby when Dark Matters boarded the ship- should have, if you were in this for your own self-interest to any degree. Instead, you helped us execute possibly one of the most flawless upsets I’ve ever had the pleasure of being part of.”

“But on the Curemother heist-”

“The past is behind us, darling,” Buddy says with an airy wave. “So long as you’ve gotten a reasonable amount of sleep this time-” She looks to Juno, who nods- “I think we’ll be alright.” She tilts her head, a bemused smirk creeping onto her face as Nureyev stammers. “I trust you, Pete. There’s no need to look so shocked about it.”

That snaps him back to himself and he nods, a nervous smile tentatively appearing to mirror hers. A year ago, he wouldn’t have dreamed of wearing his emotions this openly- even now, he only lets the lapse in confidence waver in his expression for a moment before regaining his usual posture- but still, things are… different. 

Juno keeps their hands clasped together all the way down to the hangar, and only lets go when Nureyev has to step into the Ruby. “Stay safe, Nureyev,” he whispers, quiet enough that the comms don’t pick it up, and kisses Nureyev on the forehead one last time.

“I will, Juno.” Nureyev smiles, and waves as Juno retreats to the safety behind the airlock. His fingers flex around the steering wheel, and in the moment before he and the Ruby get shot out into space, something finally clicks. 

The leadup to this moment has been a year of a thousand smaller ones. A quiet run-in with Jet in the dead of night, making tea in the kitchen when neither of them could sleep. The heist with Buddy where he’d slipped on a detail and she’d swooped to the rescue with a lie that got them in the door twice as fast as their original plan, and the way she’d smiled at him afterwards and said, _I told you, didn’t I, darling? Flawless crime is boring._ The spark of joy in Vespa’s eyes when he’d presented her with a Rangian dagger he’d managed to unearth somewhere, that even now, its talon-like curve gleams at her thigh. Rita’s face set as firm as he’s ever seen it, telling him that _Mista Steel likes you an awful lot, so you better not let him down, you hear?,_ and when he’d promised he wouldn’t, she’d beamed at him. _That’s what I thought. You don’t seem like the kinda person to hurt someone like that._ And finally, Juno, Juno who has trusted him for far longer than he’s deserved it, sitting on his bed and baring his beating heart for Nureyev to see, holding his hand through every layer of Nureyev's own disguises they peel back and telling him _I’m proud of you, honey,_ over and over again until he almost believes it himself.

He hasn’t undergone the kind of change Juno has, but looking at these people, a future _family_ that is just beginning to trust him, Nureyev wants to grow.

* * *

The chase through the debris field is fast-paced, dangerous, and absolutely terrifying. At least, that’s what Juno assumes- he gets motion sick two minutes in and has to sprint to the bathroom before he pukes all over some important console. At some point, the lights flicker and he hears Rita shout something about communications being jammed, but then the ship jerks to the side and anything else she says is immediately lost to his personal battle not to lose his lunch. When he finally makes it back to the bridge just in time to catch sight of the Ruby approaching them on their scanners, though, all of that fades in a second.

Juno’s the first one in the hangar as soon as the airlock closes, almost falling on his face in his rush to get to the car before anyone else. He wants so badly to see Nureyev again, to kiss him and tell him he’s proud, to welcome him back and hold his hand and tease him to watch him blush and the hundred thousand other things that fill his head whenever he thinks about making a future with _Peter goddamned Nureyev_ , and it’s all he can do not to cry with joy before he even sees the man’s face again. He feels the space between them like a missing limb when he regains his balance, looking up to gauge how quickly he can close it, and-

Nureyev’s not in the Ruby.

He hears the others’ footsteps slow as if he’s hearing it through a layer of fog, everything narrowing down to that empty space behind the steering wheel where Nureyev should be, where he had _promised_ he’d be, so _why isn’t he there?_

“Ransom?” His voice cracks, high and frantic. “Ransom, where the hell are you?”

“This isn’t fucking funny, thief,” Vespa snarls behind him.

“Darling…” Buddy mutters, but it doesn’t sound like she’s talking to Vespa. When he looks back, she’s standing stock-still, just staring at the empty seat in the car. “I suppose this means I was wrong, doesn’t it?”

Juno has no idea what that’s about, and it can wait. On any other day, he’d feel stupid talking to a car, but he honestly can’t find it in himself to care. “Ruby?” he murmurs, trying and failing to keep the tremor out of his voice. “Ruby, do you-”

He’s expecting silence, so when Ruby chirps brightly, it startles him so badly he falls backwards. Everyone’s heads snap towards the sound, and Ruby whistles. Her headlights flash once, twice, and then…

“-llo? Is this reco- ah! Wonderful.” Nureyev’s voice rings from the Ruby, strained with an emotion Juno can’t place and slightly tinny from the speakers but _Nureyev_ , and Juno feels his heart rise in his throat. “Hello to all of you. You may be wondering why I’m not among you right now, and for that, I apologize. But circumstances have changed. The Dark Matters ships are, ah, fastER-” His voice pitches up and the recording crackles, obscured for a moment by the unmistakable sound of a high-powered laser beam narrowly missing the car. “-faster than I remember. You’ll have to forgive me if my explanation’s a little rushed, I may not have time to be as specific as I’d like. The short of it is, there isn’t enough time for me to pull Dark Matters off your tail and then return before they catch up. I’m plotting a course down to the surface of Soteria as we speak. When I’m there, Ruby will disguise herself as a regular ship and return to you on her own, when it’s safe. They believe I’m still in possession of the Curemother, at least- hopefully that will be enough incentive for them to follow me.”

He’s so matter-of-fact about it, speaking in the same placid, cheerful tone he’d adopted years ago to call a tomb a ‘momentary inconvenience’, and his voice is perfectly steady even as it feels like the ship’s shaking apart under Juno’s feet. The recording goes quiet for a minute, interspersed with grunts of concentration from Nureyev and responding chirps from the Ruby as Nureyev evades his pursuers. A satisfied whistle crackles from the speakers, followed by its present echo, and Nureyev chuckles.

“Yes, Ruby, you were very impressive.” He sighs exhales with relief, and Juno can hear the soft impact of him leaning back in his seat. “I’ve got a minute or two before they find us again, I think, so… I suppose this is where I should say my goodbyes.” A choked attempt at a laugh barely reaches the recording device, like Nureyev’s head is buried in his arms. “It’s ironic, really. I’ve left so many people in my career that you’d really think I’d be better at this by now. I suppose I should start with… Vespa, then.” He sighs. “Vespa, I know we’ve never gotten along well-”

“Got one damn thing right, thief,” Vespa grumbles, hiding her face in Buddy’s shoulder. The recording continues, unable to hear her.

“-and it pains me deeply that I never got a chance to truly rectify that. The truth is that I admire you a great deal, both as a criminal and as a person, and I am sorry if I’ve ever suggested otherwise. The same goes to you, Jet-” He chuckles a little self-consciously, and Juno can almost see the way he fiddles with his shirt cuff, knows this man so well he feels like he can reach out and _touch_ him. “It’s really a little silly, to be honest. I’d heard tales of the Unnatural Disaster as a child in the Outer Rim, of course, and when I realized I would be working with you- I’m ashamed to admit that some of that youth remained within me. But Jet Siquliak, the man I’ve had the privilege of getting to know, is far more impressive to me than any folk legend could ever be.” Jet says nothing, but Juno sees tears welling in his eyes. 

“And Captain Aurinko- I hardly even need to say it, do I?” 

“Pete…” Buddy whispers, her voice cracking.

“Past the admiration I hold for your accomplishments, I… I’m not entirely sure where I would be without the pushes to be you’ve given me to be a better man, Captain, and for that I thank you profusely.” Nureyev’s voice quavers. “I’m sure you don’t remember it, but… you said, once, that it seemed like having a heart embarrassed me.” 

“Of course I remember,” Buddy says softly, echoing in the silent hangar. 

“You were right then, and you have been right many times since. But… I look forward to the day, with or without you there to witness, that I can properly prove you wrong, Captain. Thank you.” 

“Miss Rita. I thank you for every extension of kindness you have shown me, even the ones I was too scared or nervous to take. Your companionship has been truly irreplaceable, and I am extremely glad I met you.” He cuts off, drumming his fingers on the dashboard for a few moments before continuing. “You hold something very precious to me, and you have kept excellent care of it, even if you obtained it without my knowing. Thank you for that, as well.”

Juno’s seen Rita cry a hundred thousand times, but it never hurts any less watching her do it for real; all he can do when her face screws up and she lets out a choked little noise is hug her to his side and hope he’s anchoring her as well as she anchors him. 

“And finally… Juno. My dear, wonderful Juno.” The phantom of Nureyev’s voice turns to him, and it’s all he can do to keep himself upright. 

“N- R- You idiot,” he curses, one hand pounding weakly against the hood of the Ruby as a faint sniffle on the other end of the recording drives yet another dagger into his heart. It’s never hurt so much, not to be allowed to say Nureyev’s name when it pushes at the back of his throat and _begs_ to get free.

“I know this is hard. I told you I wanted to stay, to make a future with you, and I meant it. I still do. But you know my past better than anyone, and you and I both know that nothing good has ever happened when I get what I want.”

“You just wanted the right thing,” Juno sobs to a man that can’t hear him. In the echo of Nureyev’s words, the pieces start to connect- a dead father to save a planet, a life of debt to extend one that was already doomed- and he wishes he could reach through the reverberations of the speakers to grab Nureyev by the shoulders and scream _don’t you get it? There’s nothing wrong with wanting, Nureyev. I’m sorry the universe ever told you otherwise._

“You’ll survive, Juno. I know you will. You built yourself up once without me, and I have faith you’ll do it again. And so will the rest of you. You’re all stronger than I have ever been, and I know you’ll continue to do incredible things.” The roar of a high-power engine rumbles through the speakers, and Nureyev goes very quiet on the other end. “Ah. That’ll be Dark Matters catching up, I- I assume.” Nureyev’s voice hitches and breaks. Even through the pain in his voice and the staticky effect of the speaker Juno can still hear that damned smile, still bright as stars underground and gilded globes and that twinkle of hope that has never, ever left him.

“Goodbye to all of you, and thank you for everything. Signed, your thief, Peter Nureyev.”

* * *

On the surface of Soteria, feet away from the open door of a crowded spaceport, a man without a name smiles up at the sky. “Goodbye, Juno,” he murmurs, and nobody hears it.

**Author's Note:**

> and then BAM season 4 is a nureyev arc that parallels junos and he gets all sorts of character development, intercut w juno trying to chase him down and sasha probably escaping and going back to dark matters and becoming a villain. idk i think shes cool but also She Is Probably A War Criminal. bit of a girlboss moment.
> 
> I came up with the concept for this fic during the ACT and wrote my original notes on my shirt bc they didnt give me scrap paper and THEN wrote the rest of the first draft in my friends' discord dms, after which i promptly forgot about it for two weeks until the tpp finale announcement came out, i Fucking Panicked, and got most of it done the tuesday patreon supporters got the episode/the wednesday morning afterwards. i have a love/hate relationship with this fic bc on one hand i legitimately really enjoyed writing it, i'm really proud of the work i did, and it made me genuinely emotional. on the other hand i am. So Fucking Exhausted. i stayed up until 3 am for like 4 days straight working on this bc i fixated on it so hard. this is why you don't give me ideas with time limits, y'all, i have legitimately no scope of balance when i get an idea ;-; i'm gonna go nap until the finale comes out now, i am Worn Out oTL (/lh)
> 
> Thank you for reading this fic all the way through, and i hope you enjoyed it!! comments and kudos always mean so so much so if you would be so kind as to leave some i will love u forever mwah mwah  
> have a wonderful day/night/whenever you read this!


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